


Twenty-eight hours

by Felidae5



Category: Lupin III
Genre: Complete, Drugs, Lupin is losing his mind, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:07:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29171589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felidae5/pseuds/Felidae5
Summary: When a half-naked, disoriented Lupin shows up after a heist in Lisbon, with no memory of either the job or the last twenty-eight hours, who's to tell what really happened?And when the thief finds himself getting continuously more nervous and touchy, is there a way to retrieve his missing memories and solve the puzzle behind his change?
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Zenigata Kouichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 29





	1. Lisboa

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: this story deals with rather disturbing terms in detail. Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with any or all of the following: memory loss, drug use/abuse, rape, conditioning.

_Lisboa_

Holding each a pillow to his front- and backside, a confused, darkhaired man in striped boxers trudged tiredly through the streets of a slowly awakening Lisbon.  
It was not the first time he had found himself in such a situation, but usually, he remembered the reason for his Walk of Shame.  
However, this time he drew a blank. He didn't even remember what town or country he was in, and that in itself was worrysome.  
Even more troubling was, that-  
"Ali esta éle! Prenda-o!"+  
Before he even knew what happened, the man found himself surrounded by several police officers, some with drawn guns, some with raised batons.  
Disoriented, scared and absolutely clueless, the man rose his hands in surrender, just for the whole squad to dogpile on him and wrap him in several coils of rope.  
Eventually, his survival instincts kicked in and he screamed for help.  
"Au sécour! Au sécour! Il m' àmene! Ils m'ont appréhende! 'A l'aide!"°  
Someone clonked him over the head and he was out like a light.

His headache wasn't getting any better.  
They had given him a blanket to cover himself, some painkillers and a pair of shoes that didn't fit, and were asking him questions about some heist or another.  
Baffled, he stared at the translator. So far he had found out that he was in Portugal, and though the comissioner interrogating him was most likely capable of his native language, the stocky cop couldn't be bothered.  
Instead, the captive was informed by the translator that he and two complices had broken into the First National Bank and cleared out about a quarter billion Euros, plus a stack of rather lucrative stocks and some two dozen rare coins.  
Lupin, for that's what everybody called him, just stared puzzled at his confessors, the newspaper clippings with his departing form, a mugshot of him grinning confidently into the camera(what kind of idiot smirked like that when arrested?), another mugshot of a man who looked strangely familar with a wild, pointy beard, long, black hair and dangerous eyes, then back at the newspapers.  
Something caught his eye, it was of a man standing to the side in a brown trenchcoat and hat, obviously giving out orders. His tall, brawny build, the cleft in his chin and the long eyelashes stirred something in him, same as the bearded man.  
Pointing a finger, he asked,  
"Qui est ça?" This time the commissioner answered,  
"Inspector Zenigata from Interpol. You are on the list of the most wanted criminals in the world."  
The man's- Lupin's- jaw dropped open.  
Interpol? Most wanted? Criminal? Him? Impossible, he would never, could never- but there were those pictures, even video footage of the heist, but his brain refused to accept.  
Or rather, his brain came up with nothing.  
He couldn't remember his life, himself, leave alone the past twenty-eight hours since the crime had taken place.  
What if he really was this internationally wanted thief, this smug-grinning-  
"Non, non, c'est impossible! Je ne suis pas comme ça! Je ne suis pas un-un-ménace!"  
Two sets of eyebrows shot up.  
The commissioner shook his head and snorted, the translator merely sneered. Addressing the latter, the commissioner said in Portugese,  
"Apparently he's trying to pull the whole memory loss stunt. We'll see what the doctor says. Let's get him to hospital, I'd hate for him to get out on claims of grievous neglect."  
Stumbling after the commissioner, cocooned by twelve heavily armed officers(seriously? He was just a handcuffed guy in a blanket and his undies), he made his way onto the parking lot. An armored car waited for him, and Lupin trembled. Once he was in there, it was over, they would take him to the hospital, strap him down, medicate or even sedate him, and he would never see the light of day again. Even worse, that mean-looking Interpol agent might come in and-  
And the line of cruisers closest to the gate blew up.  
The explosions threw everybody off-balance, Lupin landed on his rear and gaped in horror at the chaos surrounding him. Alarms were blaring, people were shouting, everyone was running and scurrying and scrambling. He felt himself pulled up none to gently by the commissioner who yelled something at him, but his ears were tingeling and he couldn't fathom what he was told.  
Suddenly, a cord wrapped aound his middle and he was yanked away from the commissioner. Again, he landed on his ass, and he looked up, ready to growl at whoever-  
The bearded man.  
The man from the mugshot.  
The one who was claimed to be his partner, sidekick, bodyguard, whatever.  
Those dark, predatory eyes stared down at him from under a wide-brimmed hat, annoyed, angry, but not in hatred. Instead, he yanked Lupin up and pushed him forward, straight toward the pandemnium.  
"What the hell're you doing here, you moron? We thought you were at the hideout, but you never showed up! Instead we gotta bust your scawny ass outta jail, cause you couldn't keep it in your pants!"  
Dazed, utterly bewildered and more than a little terrified, Lupin stumble-ran towards the exit, the burning cars, tripping over his own feet.  
"Lose the shoes! You'll be faster bare-foot!" shouted the man with the beard.  
Oh great, run barefoot through this hellhole, smart idea.  
"You handcuffed? Hold still!" Involuntarily, Lupin came to a standstill, showing the -whoever he was, his cuffed hands. A bang, a clink and the chain holding his cuffs together was broken. Again, his jaw came unhinged.  
"Tu-tu as un pistolet?"* It was the bearded man's turn to stare.  
"Damn, Lupin, you-duck!" He lauched forwards, taking Lupin with him and covering him with his own body. Above them shots whizzed through the air, and all that Lupin could think about, was, that the other man had not spoken French, but some other, strange language.  
And he had understood every single word.  
Before he had time to contemplate this fact further, they were on the run again, made easier since he could now use his arms to counterbalance. He glanced at his kidnapper? saviour? and noticed this one's strange running style. It looked awkward, but effective. He tried to imitate it and found to his surprise that his body knew exactly what was expected from it. In short, he caught up to the other one and marveled at how easily they slipped into perfect sync.  
A strange excitement coursed through his veins, an odd thrill. Had he done this before? Had _they_ done this before? Was this man running next to him really his partner, his right hand? Did that mean that he really _was_ Lupin, the internationally wanted master thief?  
They zigzaged through the maze of cars, debris, burnt tires and scrap and furious police. Behind them they heard the stomping of heavy boots and Lupin was convinced they wouldn't make it. And they were so close to the gate, maybe another thirty meters...  
His brain came to a screeching halt at the sight before him.  
Perched on the wall surrounding the compound crouched a samurai.  
A friggin' _samurai_.  
Complete with kimono, sandals and sword.  
He slowed down, intent to marvel at the woundrous image, but his companion was having none of it. Gripping his arm and speeding up, he forced Lupin to go faster, even as the samurai leapt over them and towards their pursuers. Before he had time to look back, the gunman had practically thrown him into an idling car, revved the motor and was racing down the street before he even had closed the driver's door.  
Lying in a hopeless tangle of limbs, the former prisoner tried to make head or tails of the happenings, but eventually gave up and focused on getting into an upright position.  
A few streets further, there was a thump on the roof.  
"'Bout time, Goemon, what took you so long?" barked the man next to him. Lupin had half a mind to stick his head out to look what had landed on the roof, but the gunman's frantic driving had him rethink that.  
Behind them, police sirens howled, but the small car they were in skidded and jolted off the streets and into open farmland, then woods, and finally, the sirenes faded away.  
Only now Lupin dared to ask,  
"Who's..Goemon?" The gunman almost steered the car off the narrow dirtpath into the underbrush. Tilting his hat up, he gaped at Lupin.  
"Did you hit your head, or what? Goemon. Our favourite samurai and master swordsman?"  
Again it occured to Lupin, that those words had not been spoken in French. But then, neither had he _asked_ them in French, but this weird, foreign language that seemed so familiar. Taking a gamble, he pointed at the driver and queried,  
"And you are..?"  
"Jigen. Jigen Daisuke. Man, Lupin, this stopped being funny like yesterday." Nope, still no French. Groaning, Lupin buried his face in his palm.  
"Please don't talk about yesterday. I can't remember anything than happened yesterday, last week, or -ever."  
For moment, both fell silent, then Jigen asked,  
"Seriously. Nothing?"  
Lupin shook his head. Jigen huffed.  
"Man, Lupin, you really don't remember we cleared out the Fist National Bank of Portugal? _Any_ heists? Or our names? How hard did ya hit that noggin' of yours?"  
The man scratched his head; everybody called him Lupin, so that must be who he was, right? It _did_ stir something familar in him. Just like Jigen, but he couldn't put is finger on it.  
"Hey, brought you a new outfit, so you don't haveta run around in the buff", grunted Jigen, pointing at the backseat. Lupin glanced over his shoulder and saw a pair of pale gray slacks, a black button-down, yellow tie and engine-red jacket.  
And it clicked.  
In a flurry of pictures, sounds and emotions it all came flooding back to him; who he was, what he did, how and why he did it and the sheer and utter passion and _fun_ he had doing it.  
He climbed on the backseat and began dressing up. Jigen watched him in the rear view mirror, a smirk spreading over his face.  
Lupin's face was alit like a child's unraveling a Christmas present, and by the time they reached their hideout, the master thief was fully dressed and had made his way back to the front. He could tell that something was still nagging at the younger man, but whatever it was, didn't seem to affect him too much, if the gleam in the deep grey eyes was anything to go by.  
Goemon awaited them when they arrived, arms crossed and semi-curious. Lupin slid out of the car, readjusting his tie pin, and gave Goemon an affirmative nod.  
Lupin lll was back in business.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
So far, so well -or unwell, as Lupin and friends are about to find out. Oh, and apologies for my crummy Portugese and barrel-bottom French. It's really just for flavour.

"Ali esta éle! Prenda-o!"+: Portugese: There he is! Arrest him!  
"Au sécour! Au sécour! Il m' àmene! Ils m'ont appréhende! 'A l'aide!": French: Help, help, They're taking me(away)! They aprehended me! Help!  
"Tu-tu as un pistolet?" French: You-you got a gun?


	2. Johannesburg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story will be something of a world tour of a slow burn. Basically, we'll be following Lupin as he slowly deteriorates, while his friends try to save him.

_Johannesburg_

Sweltering heat, cold nights, gale winds that appeared out of nowhere and washed ashore flotsam, maritime life and bodies at times...  
Lupin loved it; the old gold capitol of the world still held many of its precious gems. It was like picking cherries from the neighbour's garden.  
Compared to what he was used to dealing with, the only true challenge were the milita-turned-police guarding the Hopsen's Museum of History and Art, and considering how many armies he had already ran into during his career, these were mere novices.

Five days scoping out the place, a calling card, Zenigata according to semi-reliable sources stuck on a different case halfways across the globe later, Lupin and gang were on their shopping spree through the Purple Star exhibition.  
While Jigen busied himself clearing out the other casks and displays, Lupin focused on the grand price. Stroboscope light to prevent the infrared sensors from going off, juweler's scobe firmly in place, heat absorbing gloves on his hands, Lupin swiftly attatched eight tiny hydraulic jacks around the glass cask the necklace resided within.  
He pressed a button on the lamp on his head and immediately the tiny contraptions began their work. Slowly, minutely, precisely, they intercepted the alarm circuit connecting the glass and vevelt-covered wood pedestal, rewired the weight sensors and allowed Lupin to slide a long forceps between the gap.  
"Come to papa", he whispered, as the throngs unerringly lifted the collier from its place. He had barely removed the priceless item as he pulled out a strange, heavy round object from within his jacket. Using the prongs, he replaced the collar with what was a wrought iron collier shaped liked his infamous self-doodle.  
He just had time to remove the forceps when the jacks lowered the glass hull back into place. Swiftly, Lupin removed his tools and stuffed them back into their respective pouches inside his suit.  
Only now did he allow himself to inspect the collier and make certain, it wasn't a fake.  
The Purple Star, a blue-reddish diamond the size of a chestnut, had been the wedding present of some Dutch baroness or another.   
A beautiful piece of jewelry, the blue and white of the surrounding stones merely helped to set off the deep purple of the center piece...  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._  
Whipping around, Lupin stared at his partners.  
"Did-did you say something?"   
Goemon, on the lookout, whispered,  
"Never for no reason." Jigen shook his head where he stood shoveling ancient Krüger-Rands into a bag.  
"Nothing whatsoever, boss."   
Lupin frowned, then turned his attention back on the collar.  
The exquisite silver setting alone made this necklace worth-  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._  
No.  
That had been neither Jigen nor Goemon.  
Maybe his earpiece..? No, worked absolutely perfect.  
Then perhaps...  
A hidden audio outlet set to confuse thiefs like himself. Set to just the right frequenzy to cause unease and alarm by confusing the inner ear...  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._  
He gulped.  
Then why didn't either Goemon or Jigen react?  
The gunman had an eerie well hearing considering his trade, and the samurai could hear a cat traipsing over concrete. So why didn't they react?  
And then it dawned on him.  
The gas trap, which they had set off due to it not being where it had been indicated in the blueprints of the museum, didn't merely enter the body through the respiratory system. Lupin recalled getting some of it in his eyes. It had stung a moment, but he had dismissed it, a few absent-minded rubs to get rid of the slightly burning sensation.  
They needed to leave, _now_.  
If he was beginning to hear voices, that meant the halluzinogen or whatever it was, was taking effect, and he needed to be far away before the whole bandwith of the gas impacted him.  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._  
"Guys! Change of plan! We're clearing out, now!" he hissed, as he shoved the collar into his pocket. Jigen paused in his grabbing of gold chains and Goemon let his confused glance flit over to him for a second.  
"Oy, boss, what-"  
"The gas we ran into! I absorbed some through my eyes. I can feel the effects!"  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._  
He could feel cold sweat break out all over his body; his hands felt cold and numb, his heart was racing in a bad way. Goemon took one look at him and led them down the corridor. Jigen followed behind them, gun on the ready, while Lupin struggled to breathe normally.  
The walls were closing in on him, his throat kept tightening and when he lept over a trellis, it happened: his left foot caught and he fell face-first onto the carpet, scattering his loot all over the place. Swiftly, he got up and began scrambling for the lost treasures, but then Jigen pulled him up and dragged him along and he was left glancing back over his shoulder at the priceless collier he left behind.  
 _Diamonds aren't a thief's best friends._

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
With best regards to Norma Jeane. This is actually based on a scene from CSI Vegas, when everbody's favourite Lab Rat David Hodges gets an eyeful of vapourized drugs that send him into a feral rage.


	3. Bremerhaven

_Bremerhaven_

14:33.  
Klimahaus Bremerhaven.  
Considering its comparably small size, the Hanseatic town is a tourist trap in disguise. However, it's its status in the automobile world as one of the planet's largest automotive ports that makes this city a heavyweight.  
Anyone who doesn't have a stop set up over there, has no means being in car business.  
Needless to say, it attracted thieves from all around the globe to try their luck, but so far, very few had succeeded at managing to actually syphon off any remarkable profits.  
Normally, Lupin wouldn't have bothered, until he heard who the guest of honour at the Annual Geneva Automobile Salon was: a 1931 Bugatti Type 41 Royale Kellner.  
Lupin had popped a boner just hearing the name.  
Among the rarest cars in the world, it is the very embodiment of smoothness and elegant power. It's timeless shape make it appear as if it were not manufactured, but poured out of cream, caramel and liquid silk.  
And Lupin had to have it.  
So, slinking about in disguise at the exhibition was crucial to his plan. While he and Goemon played the average Japanese jetset couple enjoying their tour-du-monde, Jigen was scoping out the massive hub.  
Goemon had begged and pleaded and it had finally come down to a game of strip-poker, but Jigen won and now Goemon, much to his chagrin, found himself in drag.  
Lupin had managed to hack into the museum's system and was using it to filter every tidbit of info Jigen sent him onto his own cell phone, while making a big show of taking pictures and videos.  
Eventually, he had what he needed and him and Goemon -sorry, _Kotone_ \- were leaving for the mediocre hotel they were stationed at.

"We're working with an extremely small window, here," stated Lupin, once Jigen had made it back to headquarters,  
"forty-five minutes at most, perhaps even as little as thirty-eight."  
"Make it twenty-five and work from there, boss. Just to be safe", stated Jigen, where he lay on the couch, sipping beer. Lupin grimaced.  
"That's too tight. Let's run with thirty-three and hope for the best. Jigen, is the Bugatti fueled?" Jigen's left eye peeked out from underneath the brim of his hat.  
"Enough to make it cross-town. Why, you wanna drive it?" Lupin bit his lip.  
"Only as a final option. What about the decoy?" "All ready and set. But we gotta be quick with the switch, the sound of the motor alone will clue anyone with ears in that it's not the real deal." Lupin placed his palm against his forehead.  
"I know, but have you got any idea how hard it is to find an engine that sounds like a 12liter straigh-eight motor without plucking apart a truck? Or another priceless oldtimer? We work with what we got."  
Goemon shrugged his shoulders.  
"I still believe it is nonsense." Two sets of disbelieving eyes set on the samurai. Before Lupin could throw a tantrum, Jigen asked,  
"Ne, Goemon, if we'd be out trying to steal one of Muramasa's lost masterpieces, would you call it nonsense, too?" Goemon remained silent, but his left eye twitched dangerously.  
"Do no compare the skills of one of Japan's greatest swordmakers with a car designer."  
"Either way, it's rare, it's priceless and it's gorgeous!" crooned Lupin.  
"And that alone makes it worth stealing."

Everything had gone smoothly; they had switched the cars without a hitch, then Jigen had driven the decoy past the stunned security and through town, police hot on his trails. Feinging loss of control, he drove the fake Bugatti into the Weser and made his getaway through the fisher's port, where Lupin and Goemon were already waiting in an idling, inconspicuous truck carrying the container with its precious cargo.  
And then everything went to hell.  
Out of nowhere, Zenigata showed up, taking pursuit.  
The truck, though modified, struggled with the solid three point two tons of the Bugatti plus the weight of the container. Taking sharp curves was almost impossible, and Zenigata drew nearer and nearer. Eventually, the Inspector pulled out a megaphone and shouted,  
"Lupin! Bring the Bugatti back, and we'll discuss things out!" Lupin felt a shiver down his back; discuss things out? Why did tot-san suddenly sound like some mob boss? Again, the megaphone crackled, and the gruff voice iterated,  
"Give. It. Back." Lupin's hands grew clammy; this wasn't working out. Even if the Bugatti was literally wrapped in cotton wool, the truck was not designed for a high speed chase. If they flipped the truck, the beautiful classic would be a goner. Lupin grit his teeth. Jigen pointed out suggestions for an alternate escape route.  
Goemon was on the roof, cutting up the street, but Zenigata was having none of it.  
"Lupin! Give it back!"  
He was starting to sweat bullets; he had to forcibly keep his teeth from chattering and the steering wheel slipped through his sweaty fingers.  
"Jigen!" he yelled, startling the gunman who had already taken aim at Zenigata's cruiser,  
"cover for me! I'll deal with tot-san!"  
If Jigen was surprised, he didn't show it, but swiftly traded places with Lupin.  
The master thief leaned out the window, forced his infamous grin on his face and waved at the Interpol inspector.  
"Ne, tot-san, nice to see you're up and well! Gotta go, but I'll be in touch!"  
He threw himself back into the seat after tossing a shirt button grenade at the cruiser and smirked.  
"Give it back!"  
Lupin flinched and froze simultaneously. Something about Zenigata's voice..he sounded so -cold. Had they been moved up on The List? Had the ICPO ordered Zenigata to bring in, no, _down_ Lupin, dead or alive? If that was the case, then Zenigata was their only shield between life and death.  
Uttering a curse under his breath, Lupin decided to play it safe, never mind how much it hurt. Shouting at Goemon to get inside, he hissed at Jigen,  
"We're dropping the cargo! Something about tot-san's voice rubs me the wrong way. He's usually never this serious, unless-"  
"Unless the higher-ups decided to give us terrorist status. Meaning, they'll be moving in the big guns any second now. And in this tin box plus the extra weight we're practically sitting ducks."  
Lupin nodded and swallowed the bile rising up in his throat. He reached under the dash board and pressed two buttons, then a small lever underneath the driver's seat. A lurch went through the small cabin, then a clank, another clank, a hiss and Lupin closed his eyes. Behind them they could hear several clicks and then the sound of a hydraulic pump, seconds before a loud thump and a faint screech.  
Promptly, the truck jolted forwards. Lupin pressed another button and released the nitro. He didn't open his eyes until they had made it to their rickety hide-out.  
Nobody spoke throughout the drive.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
If I recall correctly, this happend twice throughout the entire series. And from Interpol, the credo "We do not negotiate with terrorists" is basically a death sentence.  
As for the Bugatti...if you start drooling, no one will judge you. Seriously.  
https://autowise.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/1931-bugatti-Royale-Type-41-Kellner-Coupe.jpg


	4. Seoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of an intermezzo, but with a significant change...

_Seoul_

She was gorgeous.  
All legs and curves and two cute little orange-sized breasts underneath handwoven, embroidered silk. A pouty mouth slapped with burgundy underneath a button nose and almond-shaped eyes framed by glossy, perfectly styled black locks...  
'Marie' Sung Choi, famous singer and model, looked every part the femme fatale she wasn't. Raised in the K-Pop industry, the young woman was somewhat naïve to the real world and thus hapless prey to the suave wooing of a man like Lupin lll.  
All evening he had circled around the star like a moon; fading in and out of her orbit with cunning practice. Pulling out his entire repetoire of French galanterie, he had confused the poor celebrity into falling for his sweet, empty promises.  
Yet, as he sweet-talked her through the release gala of her newest album, he found that he wasn't attracted to her.  
It was odd; she was perfect, exactly his type, but he felt nothing.  
She smiled at him, when they danced, but his member didn't even twitch.   
Alas, he felt a shiver run down his spine, when she agreed to step out onto the terrace with him, and not a giddy one.  
There were many other beautiful women floating about the place; everything from cool to spicy, more than enough to wet his appetite and sate his lust. But none of them held that certain something that could have actually piqued his want.  
He argued it being due to his focus being on Sung Choi, and expected his libido to kick in the second her resolve wavered.  
Instead, when she turned warm, doting cat eyes on him, he felt something like repulsion course through his veins.  
His mind told him that he _should_ want her, but his body didn't respond.  
Again, a shudder, but he kept his smile in place, his mask never slipping, and eventually, he made off with the producer's Lotus of Catai, a trio of oddly-shaped pink pearls from the late sixteenth century set in pure gold.

"Ne, that went well", stated Jigen, as they drove away fom the event. Lupin stared out the front window, feeling strangely..empty.  
Why had none of the women at the party jolted his lust?  
He had snuck a couple peeks under dresses that were either to wide, too short or too sheer for his trained eye, but again, his cock had not shown the slightest interest.  
Was he having erectile- no, impossible, he was too young for that.  
But maybe..  
He still couldn't remember those twenty-eight hours in Lisbon.  
Maybe whatever had happened there had shocked his system so much, that he was incapable of feeling lust.  
Al chill encased his soul, and he tucked his hands under his armpits.  
That was a thought too terrible to behold.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
Just imagine Lupin no longer able of getting it up...poor guy.


	5. Nagano

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead and if this wasn't a strain to write. Not that much action, but a little more plot-heavy.

_Nagano_

Nagano was a fucking _desaster_.  
Everyone was there, including Fujiko and Zenigata, and his perfectly laid plan went belly-up, even before they had made it to the town center.  
It was something of a pet peeve of his, with it being where he had suffered his first truly major loss at Zenigata's hands, when the Interpol inspector had managed to stop him from taking off with the Winter Olympic's entire revenue.  
Now, as a form of belated revenge("best served frozen solid" he had said to Jigen), he had set is eyes on the memorial plaque kept on display in Nagano's Sports Musem.  
The plaque's material worth was somewhere in the four digits, but its symbolic value practically immeasurable.  
From the second his calling card appeared, the museum was shut down, several hastily crafted conterfeits scattered about as decoy and the orginal moved to a safe place.  
Precisely according to Lupin's plan. As if he couldn't tell fake tarnish from the wear and tear twenty-odd years of careful cleaning, polishing and displaying left on the bronze surface.  
He swooped in with his usual fevor, disgusing himself as a security advisor, when Zenigata sprang a trap on him that took him completely by surprise.  
The inspector had recognized Lupin the moment he had tried to infiltrate the counseling staff and sicced a squad team of only female officers on the master thief.  
Fuck.  
Now, Lupin was not above hitting a woman, if said woman happened to be a homicidal psychopath hellbent on ripping out his spine and throat, but this was entirely different territory.  
There was no way he could charm his way out of this, and then the worst thing happened.  
He froze.  
Faced with such a bulk of angry feminity, his body just locked up.  
Yes, they were higly trained professional police officers, but he couldn't make up his mind wether to go in guns a-blazing, make a run for it or lure them away and try a different approach-  
Luckily for him, Jigen had no such qualms.  
One, two, three, four; knees were shattered and arms pierced, as the 408 Chey Tac bellowed from somewhere five streets away and tore the precise formation apart.  
Shook out of his stupour, Lupin feigned a head-on just to launch himself to the side and into a narrow sidestreet that was barely wide enough for one person.  
Slinking his way past faded brick walls and rotting trash, he popped out on the other side, raced into a nearby open kissaten and collided face-first with Zenigata.  
Who blinked a moment, then smirked.  
"I figured you'd be trying to make it to the side roads, but never thought you'd actually- agh!" Lupin had pressed his shirt kerchief against Zenigata's face, making the large man inhale the knock-out tincture the cloth was sated with.  
Usually, Lupin would have tried to weasel out of the burly inspector's grip, but he was running out of time, out of options and, in all honesty, out of nerves. Catching Zenigata as this one slumped to the floor, he gingerly positioned the inspector against the door frame, noticing for the first time that the kissaten was completely empty.  
Damn.  
How could he have missed that?  
And why did he bother wether or not Zenigata landed flat on his face? He hardly ever had before and...  
"Oi, boss, you better get moving. Tot-san's gang's closing in and Goemon can stay in hiding only that much longer." Lupin adjusted his earpiece.  
"On it. Meet me at point five-fourteen in eight minutes."  
"Roger that."

So far, so good. Hacking the security system had proven the easiest part of the job, as was getting past the guards and police. With Zenigata out of the way, they were really no match against the master thief, and for a moment, Lupin felt something like a loss having to work without the extra risk of actually being caught.  
Seven minutes, thirty-four seconds, a stick-on mp4 player purring the National Anthem, and the safe opened without resistance.  
Grinning, Lupin carefully lifted the heavy plaque from its confines and slung the slender chain attached to it around his thickly covered neck. A calling card, a backwards flip, the whirr of his cufflink grapple and Lupin exited the mayor's office with his loot.  
As expected, Jigen was waiting with their Benelli TRK 502. Lupin was quick to hop on the bike's rear seat and off they were.  
It was only as they reached the city limits that Lupin noticed the deroute they were taking. Frowning, he yelled,  
"Oi, Jigen, what gives? That's not the way we planned." Jigen didn't reply, so he prodded the gunman.  
"Jigen, that's the wrong road! Get off the freeway!" Again, there was no reply. Instead, Jigen turned the bike right back around into the town's outskirts. Alarmed, Lupin pulled Jigen's jacket-  
and it came right off, revealing a skin tight catsuit underneath. Even as the scraps were blown away, Jigen reached for his beard, pulled and with a shrip, Fujiko's beautous face was revealed.  
Smiling over her shoulder, she winked at the baffled Lupin and laughed,  
"Gomen, my dear, but I'll be taking this precious plaque off you."  
She pressed a button on the handle and Lupin felt a sharp sting in his rear.  
Promptly, he felt dizzy, his grip on the slim waist before him losening. Fujiko steered the bike into a quiet little road and eased the semi-concious Lupin on the ground.  
"No hard feelings, ne, but ever since your announcement, the market price for this baby has sky-rocketed. I got a couple of collectors who'll pay a small fortune for this."  
She reached for the chain, ignoring Lupin's weak protests, when something whizzed past her, leaving a bullet mark on her hand.  
Hissing, she drew back and looked around.  
There, on a roof not too far away, stood Jigen, rifle on the ready and a furious scowl on his face.  
"Don't make me shoot you in front of him", he snarled, and Fujiko realized that for once, the gunman wasn't playing. Still, she wasn't one to back down. Reaching into her suit, she threw a smoke grenade, snatched the plaque from a now dozing Lupin and dashed for her bike.  
Twin pops, as both tires were shot, and the femme fatale paused. In a lightning quick motion, she made for the opposite way-  
Goemon stood there, and Fujiko knew, there was no escaping.  
With Lupin out cold, there was no one to restrain his two partners, and while she could have dealt with one, both of them were too much to take on, even for her.  
In the distance, sirens drew closer. Jigen glared at her from underneath the brim of his hat.  
"I think it is best if we discuss this in private", stated Goemon calmly, as he took the plaque from her hands.

Cold, dirty, contored and lacking any kind of decent comfort, the abandoned factory building was really not much of a hideout.  
Lupin, nursing his hurting head and a cup of tea, had the plaque's chain securely wrapped around his left arm.  
Jigen and Goemon had watched over them, until the thief had woken. Once reassured he would be fine, they had left to guard all exits while the two would-be-lovers talked it out.  
Lupin was strung out.  
His plan had been meticulous, but then Zenigata had used his soft spot for women and decided to play dirty.  
Which was ironic, since Lupin hadn't seen any real action in weeks.  
Not for lack of chances, but..he found the touch and smell of women more and more unappealing. At first, Jigen and Goemon had been thrilled at his gain of self-control, but as the days progressed and Lupin still showed no interest in chasing skirts, they had grown concerned.  
Eventually, they had offered him _assistance_ to make sure he was still "in functioning order", and while he had enjoyed Jigen's hand on his dick, it made im feel both excited and unfulfilled, as if something were missing. His conflicting feelings had led to long stretches of insomnia, constant lack of sleep making him trip over details he usually never missed.  
Hence their current situation.  
All he wanted was the memorial plaque of the 1998 Winter Sports Olympic, but then Fujiko came in and cramped his style.  
Fujiko, who had pulled the zipper of her suit down to just above her navel, her large breasts almost popping out from their confines. She wore no bra, he noticed, and for once, that knowledge didn't fill him with want, but dread.  
For the past half hour, she had flirted with him, shamelessly wrapped her long legs around his waist, nibbled at his earlobe, kissed trails down his jawline, but Lupin didn't budge.  
Usually by now he would have been naked and trying to get her into the same state, but instead he felt strangely exposed sitting there with his shirt open, her hands teasing his nipples.  
Eventually, she grew tired, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.  
"What is it with you? I promise to sleep with you. I will, I won't back out of it this time. So why won't you give me the plaque?" She huffed, then pondered.  
"Fine. I'll even agree to share. Twenty-eighty. And a night that'll make it all worth while."  
Lupin could tell she was serious. He also could tell that underneath her sultry, acquescing façade she was boiling. Mine Fujiko was not used to men denying her or her charms. And for him to not cave, not give in to her more than appealing offers was beyond insulting.  
Still, he couldn't do it. Not only because he would tick off Jigen and Goemon, but also because he _couldn't_.  
His member could as well have been anesthesized.  
There was not a spark of lust within him, and maybe for the first time ever, he realized how deep Fujiko's manipulation of him truly ran. Gently, he coaxed her off his lap.  
He was not going to give in to her demands this time.  
"It doesn't work, Fujiko", he growled.  
"I'm not letting you get away with the prize this time."  
She was fuming, and he panicked. How on earth could he tell her that her seduction didn't work? That her body didn't appease him anymore?  
"Why not?" He pressed his lips together.  
"Because..because.." He slumped his shoulders, just wanting this to be over with.  
"We're broke. The Bugatti flop cost us far more than we thought. I..I just couldn't bring myself to tell Jigen and Goemon about it. I-need this to boost their morale, you see?"  
Fujiko gawked at him, clearly not believing a word he said.  
"Are you trying to tell me, the great Lupin lll has no money?" He winced; that sounded wrong even in his own ears.  
"Of course I got money, loads of it, it's just.." he gestured awkwardly,  
"not attainable at the moment. We need liquid cash right now. A _lot_."  
She smiled cunningly.  
"I see." Closing the distance between them, she pressed her breasts against his flimsy clad chest and purred,  
"How about an exchange then, hm? You give me the trophy, I'll raise your share."  
Her large, bourbon-colored eyes twinkled, her perfume tickled his nose and suddenly, Lupin felt like crawling out his skin. Grabbing her shoulder, he pushed her away brusquely, stating,  
"No." Her features derailed. Shocked, she stood there, gaping like a fish out of water.  
"Wha-what do you mean, no?" He clutched the chain tight in his hand.  
"It's not gonna work this time, Fujiko. This is-it's too important, okay? Just -leave. Please."  
Hey held her gaze, then Fujiko scowled.  
"What happened to you, Lupin? You're not the same guy I remember."  
Lupin didn't flinch.  
"People change, Fujiko. That's life." She narrowed her eyes at him.  
"Yes, but..not like this. What happened, Lupin?"  
There was a slight tick in his jaw, but his voice remained steady.  
"Just -go. Please." She threw him one last suspicious look, then left without another word.  
He waited, until the tick-tick-tick of her heels had faded, and then another three minutes just for good measure. Only then he allowed himself to let out the breath he was holding. Driving one hand over his face, he tried to fight down the nausea her perfume had caused him.  
"Oi, was that Fujiko who just left? She didn't seem too happy", came Jigen's voice from behind him. Goemon followed suit.  
"It appears, she failed in her attempt to obtain the prize from you, am I correct?" Wordlessly, Lupin held up the memorial plaque. Jigen gaped, then gave him a pat on the back.  
"Alright! Looks like somebody's finally growing a pair! 'Bout time you told Fujiko where she can.."  
Lupin slumped to his knees and fell face-first on the floor, unconcious.

 _"So little.."_ _"Teeny, tiny.."_ _"That all you got to offer?"_ _"See here, baby.."_ Voices, soft, sweet, velvety, clear, lilting, mocking, laughing voices, cutting into him like shards of glass and ice, tossing him back and forth.  
 _"And that face!"_ _"Dance, monkey, dance!"_ _"You can take that banana elsewhere!"_ _"You sure those are ears?"_ _"Look, it's the missing link!"_  
He pressed his hands against his ears, but the voices were in his head. He curled himself up in a ball, trying to hide from the onslaught, when he heard someone say,  
"It's ok. Don't worry. They don't appreciate you. They don't know you. They don't know your worth. Your true value. Don't bother with them. Don't listen to them. Don't believe them. They mock you, because they're afraid of you. Afraid of the things you can do. They envy you. That's why they're trying to bring you down. Don't listen to them. They just want to use you. They abuse you. They use their bodies, their beauty to cheat you out of what's yours. Don't trust them. Don't ever trust them. The more beautiful the creature, the more deadly, remember? To them, you are just a tool. A means to gain riches and treasures. Keep them at arm's length. Do not ever let them know that you have seen behind their façade. That you know, what they really are. Traitors. Traitorous, venomous maneaters. Be wary of your friends. They might become ensnared by them and harm you, against their will. Trust them, but keep them in the dark. Lead by example. Remember, the more beautiful the creature, the deadlier. Don't trust beauty. Don't trust those voices. It's envy and ignorance and malice. Don't listen to them. Don't believe them. They don't appreciate-"  


Lupin awoke with a start.  
His eyes snapped wide open, as he found himself on his cot, soaked in cold sweat, his body feeling both feverish and icy at the same time.  
"Ne, look who's up", drawled Jigen. He stood over Lupin's bed, gazing worriedly down at the thief.  
"You ok, Sleeping Beauty?" Goemon appeared next to Jigen.  
"You had us quite worried, my friend. You passed out after your talk with Fujiko. We thought, she might have drugged you."  
Lupin blinked.  
Fujiko.  
Soft skin, softer lips, firm, soft breasts pressed against him, her perfume..  
He gagged, jolted from the bed and dashed to the bathroom, where he threw up everything his stomach could give.  
Jigen and Goemon stared at their friend's heaving back, then exchanged a look. Hurriedly, they crossed over to where Lupin was attempting a new hurling record, already going through the motions to relieve him.  
A cold wet towel on the neck, soothing pats and low murmurs, pressure points and ginger pills...Eventually, Lupin's stomach settled, and he let Jigen wipe his face with the now luke-warm towel. Jigen rose to wash it out and Lupin just let himself slide to the cold tiled floor, draped an arm across his eyes -and began to cry.  
He cried, cried, cried, he couldn't stop, he cried until he couldn't remember why he cried, then he cried because he couldn't remember, and he cried because he felt so powerless, so frail, so...used.

Jigen looked down at the slumbering thief.  
"I'm gonna kill that bitch", he snarled. Goemon frowned.  
"We have no proof that it was something she did."  
"Even if she didn't do it, I'm sure she's the cause of all of this. Somehow-"  
Goemon shook his head.  
"He has been acting strange for a while now, don't you agree? Since our heist in Lisbon, to be more precise."  
Jigen, fingers twitching for his gun, hesitated.  
"So you think that all of this boils down to what happened in Lisbon? You sure?"  
Goemon turned to look out the window.  
"Has he ever spoken to you about those hours he was gone?" Jigen balled his fists.  
"Not a peep." His knuckles turned white.  
"Because he doesn't remember."  
"Because he doesn't remember."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
Sorry for the OOCness, I'm still trying to figure out how bad the damage is. As for now...well, Fujiko's out of luck.


	6. Rio de Janeiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back again; please note that the first part is Lupin recalling the events in Lisbon while creating a new device. The tenses are flipped, meaning everything cursive are past events and vice versa.  
> Also, there will be a couple weird...well...see for yourself.

_Rio de Janeiro_

He tinkered away at the plum-sized box.  
_Dressed in a ridiculous, yet classy outfit, he saunters into Lisbon's First National Bank._  
With an almost imperceptible tink, the small lid opened.  
_Of course he has an appointment, after all, he has come to make a deposit._  
The glass fiber was gently inserted into the narrow slit, then screwed into place.  
_A muscle suit filled with tear gas under a black suit plus a set of shoe stunts make Jigen look like any off-the-mill bodyguard._  
A tiny suction cup attached itself to a iridescent crystal sphere.  
_He gives his hand-and fingerprints(fake ones, hello superglue), and a retinal scan._  
For a moment, the sphere refused to slide into place, and he had to jostle it.  
_The assistant director readily guides them through the vault of the bank._  
He sighed in relief, when the crystal ball attached itself to the glass cable within and began to glitter.  
_He places the cask with the fourteen Napoleon d'Or inside the drawer and triggers the detonator._  
He added the remaining mirrors to his newest gadget, then soldered everything shut.  
_Pandemonium, as Goemon 'unlocks' the other safe deposit lockers and he and Jigen, wearing gas masks, shovel everything in sight into it._  
The next part was crucial; too much voltage and the sphere would crumble to dust.  
_Jigen's racing down the street in the Fiat, as he himself goads Zenigata the opposite direction. Goemon busies himself with the police cruisers._  
0.31mA, 0.32mA...it was an extremely tedious, delicate step.  
_Zenigata shouts and throws a handcuff, which actually attaches itself to his ankle._  
Finally, it was calibrated, and he smirked.  
_A quip, a grin, the handcuff gets lost in a pub and as he leaps up a fire escape and onto the roof, he is greeted by the setting sun._  
He sounded the tiny tuning fork and held it near the contraption, which began to hum in response.  
_He runs and jumps over the roofs of Cruz Quebrada, enjoying the lovely sight of the ocean glittering in the sun, when he hears something, feels a moskito's sting and-_  
The prismatic cube was complete.

"Come back here, Lupin!"  
All is well that ends well.  
Zenigata screaming after them, as they made away with the 'Singing Damsel', an uniquely beautiful glass sculpture claimed to lead the way to its maker's hidden treasure; a first print of Hans Christian Andersen's 'The Little Mermaid'.  
Jigen was laughing, Lupin cackled and Goemon sat on the Fiat, as if none of this concerned him.  
"Lupin! Don't make it worse for yourself!"  
Lupin stopped mid-cackle.  
All around him, time slowed, his vision turned into deformed, slow-motion clips that seemed terribly ill-paced and stretched like melting candy.  
He gasped, gasped for air, his lungs were burning, he felt cold, like ice all over, he began to grey out and then he went deaf.  
Jigen was shaking him, screaming, but Lupin didn't hear a word.  
Not the engine, not Zenigata, not the screeching of the tires or the howling of the sirens, just nothing.  
He stared at Jigen, and then suddenly something, a memory, slid into place, an old photograph reeking of death and blood and there were needes, so so many needles, and  
_You're just making it worse for yourself._  
Darkness.

Breasts.  
There were breasts all around him.  
And not only breasts, also, arms, legs, lips, waves and waves of shiny, shimmering hair, eyes of all shapes and colours, vaginas, bottoms, hands, everything was warm and flowery and dizzing and alluring and enticing and toxic.  
He needed to get out of here. He was swimming, floating, flying through an ocean of limbs, female body parts. They didn't reach for him, didn't come for him, but they didn't need to, there were so many, they simply suffocated him.  
He was flailing, stumbling, trudging, wading through and across and over them, but they just kept moving about like giant jellyfish in a pond, and though they had no nettles, he knew they stung.  
"You know, you don't need them." Lupin whirled around, but all he could see was a bobbing, churning, wobbling mass of limbs.  
"You know, you don't need them. There are other..possibilities."  
Lupin swallowed harshly.  
"What..possibilities..?"  
Something like a chuckle.  
"You know what I mean. You have tried them before, but settled for...common grounds."  
A bead of sweat ran down Lupin's neck. He didn't like what the voice, the voice from earlier, was implying.  
He knew what it was implying, but he wouldn't give it the satisfaction of comfirmation.  
"As I said, possibilities. You can either abide from all this, or venture to other..pastures."  
Lupin swallowed again, brow furrowed.  
"What other pastures? There's either this or nothing."  
Another chuckle, but less..benevolent this time.  
"Do not lie to me Lupin. And most importantly, do not lie to yourself."  
A strong wind appeared out of nowhere and sent all the limbs surrounding him scattering with eerie tiny giggles and shrieks. Lupin braced himself against the storm, as he watched the myriads and myriads of jellyfish-waterballoon-limbs fly away like leaves. Eventually, the wind ceased and calmed down to a fresh, whispering breeze.  
A breeze that carried a familiar scent.  
A scent that soothed his nerves, balmed his heart and encircled his being.  
A scent like-

Cigarette smoke.  
Lupin snapped awake, instantly aware of his surroundings.  
Next to him sat Jigen in a chair, reading a book, even as Goemon came in from somewhere, holding a cup.  
Lupin shot up from the bed he lay on, glancing around.  
The 'Singing Damsel' stood on a small sideboard next to the table Goemon had placed his cup on and lowered himself onto a couch. There was the scent of coffee in the air and something with a little more proof.  
No sunlight, no, this hideout was a box in a box; an old shack hidden in a larger, abandoned complex, tucked away between a hangar and a garage.  
Lupin cringed, clasping his arms around himself, shivering with cold.  
"You're on withdrawal", Jigen stated unceremoniously. Lupin looked up.  
"What?"  
"You're on withdrawal. You got all the symptoms." The plagued thief gave a weak chuckle.  
"That's impossible. If I had been drugged, I would have felt the effects months ago-"  
"Not if it's a depository drug", Jigen cut in, pointing at the book. A medical volume, Lupin realized.  
"Kinda like the pill. It releases the med or whatever gradually into the system over a certain period of time. When the drug runs out, that's when y' go into withdrawal."  
Lupin just stared at Jigen. The gunman didn't blink.  
"So..." mumbled Lupin, not liking where this was going.  
"So I guess, what happened in Lisbon is that y'got snatched and pumped full of some weird hallucinogen. Explains your weird fuck-ups and lack of horniness." He gave a wry smile.  
"Though I consider that a bonus." His face turned serious again.  
"Whatever happened in those twenty-some hours, must have been so traumatic, your mind just shut down. Completely erased your memory. We'll probably-"  
"No, not completely. I-I have these weird -dreams, like, really bad trips, you know. And then there's just..stuff."  
He fell silent; how was he supposed to explain his partners the ocean of limbs?  
"Stuff?"coaxed Jigen. Lupin swallowed.  
"Yeah, very Freudian like. And-and..then there's the needles. Syringes, really. Lots of them." Jigen cocked a brow.  
"Define 'lots'". Lupin shrugged.  
"I dunno. Dozens, maybe hundreds."  
"Damn."  
"Is there anything else you recall?" Goemon sat cross-legged on the couch, arms folded in front of his chest. Lupin frowned.  
"A voice. Not really vicious, but you know, serious business. It kind of talks-"  
And it all came back in a rush.  
Like a gigantic screen filled with images that shattered and rained shards and splinters of impressions, sounds, smells, noises, sensations onto him; an endless rain of horrid experiences, and he screamed.  
Screamed as the terror descended upon him like an avalanche, a lavastream hellbent to erase his soul, his being from the mortal plane and leave him a hollow, scorched husk of a man.  
He screamed, as he remembered the diods attached to his head, his body being soaked, pushed into ice water, and then fingers, slick and demanding, entering him, stretching him, preparing...  
Of all the slaps Jigen had ever given him, this had to have been the most forceful one. Lupin swore he could feel his neck vertebrae snap and his jaw losen, when Jigen backhanded him.  
He fell backwards on his bed, holding his stinging cheek, but the pain was nothing in comparison to the agony he had endured. Jigen gently held his shoulders, rasping,  
"We need to find out what kinda cocktail they gave you, or you might die!"  
Tearfilled, dark eyes looked up at Jigen.  
"Who says, it isn't too late?"

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
And no, it won't get better...


	7. Vancouver

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back again and again, it's not getting better.

_Vancouver_

He hated winter.  
He hated the cold.  
What was wrong with spending November in a tropical resort?  
What did he care if some upstart kid had written a frigging code that could en-and decrypt just about any data in any language?  
If he couldn't roll about in it, he couldn't give a fuck.  
Of course, that was not the only reason they came here.  
Jigen glanced over at Lupin, who looked positively under the weather.  
Pale, ashen, dark circles underneath his eyes and his trembling didn't solely stem from the fever they only just managed to keep under control.  
Lupin needed help.  
They had tried a couple places in the US, but Zenigata was constantly on their heels.  
Finally, by means of a friend of a friend of a guy who owed them a favour, they would be able to see a specialist.  
Hopefully before Lupin killed one of them or himself.

_two weeks earlier_

Jigen snuck in, coffee in one hand, to check on Lupin.  
The master thief had had a couple of very rough nights since that -episode in Rio. They had tried waiting it out, employed a few DIY detox methods, but it hadn't really helped.  
Lupin grew more and more skittish, jumping at shadows and just generally being paranoid to an unsettling degree.  
Slinging over to the single bed, Jigen looked down at the sleeping Lupin. Sweat on his brow, Lupin's face was contorted in the throws of one nightmare or another.  
Jigen reached out to touch his shoulder  
-and stared down the barrel of Lupin's Walther 38.  
Lupin, who's wide, glassy eyes, haunted expression and dirty stubble made him look like a cornered animal defending its territory.  
Jigen's cigarette fell from his lips.  
"Jesus Christ, man", he rasped, instincts having jostled his own gun into his hand,  
"get your act together. At this rate, you'll end up killing one of us."  
Lupin panted, then his breath began to stutter and he went into a small coughing fit. Jigen slid his Magnum back into its rear holster and gently detatched the Walther from Lupin's grip.  
The younger man had his breathing back under control and shot his partner a tired, guilty look. Silently, he took the offered coffee and drank it down with a few hasty gulps.  
It gave Jigen time to take a closer look at Lupin:  
The thief was in his boxers and undershirt, and even through the fabric Jigen could see that his friend had lost weight. Never on the chubby side, one loop of his wifebeater hang off his right shoulder, his collarbones threatened to poke through his skin and the wiry, sinewy arms seemed to wither away.  
Plus, he stank.  
"When's the last time you showered?" asked Jigen. Lupin set down his cup and scowled.  
"When's the last time you went more than two hours without a fag?"Jigen cocked a brow.  
Well, at least he still had his sass.  
Taking off his jacket, the gunslinger grumbled,  
"Ok, that's it, we're gonna take a shower, now." Lupin blinked.  
"You know I know how to shower, right?" Jigen toed off his shoes, glowering at Lupin.  
"Don't wanna risk you freaking out and hitting your head. No let's get going."  
~  
At least the neurologist's praxis was warm.  
Fake ID's that declared them half-brothers, a couple thousand dollars and Lupin was inside the surgery.  
Jigen bobbed his foot. What took them so long? They had been in there almost- he glanced at the clock at the wall- two hours and forty-five minutes, and he had yet to receive an update.  
He couldn't even smoke, but at least the assistant had been nice enough to give him some nicotine gum. In the shape of a cigarette. Smartass.  
Hardy harr not harr.  
Goemon had gone shopping and setting up camp. Hopefully in a nice cozy hotel wih central heating and a bathtub.  
Jigen sneezed. At that moment, the door to the examination room opened and Doctor Susan Qô'los* nodded at him.  
"If I may see you a moment, Mister Dillinger?"

"So, we did a CAT-scan, an EEG and an MRI, plus a thourough bloodtest. What we found is rather-disturbing." Jigen swallowed, Lupin looked small and lost in his blue pullover.  
"So far, we detected no shadows, clumps or anything similar to indicate brain damage. However," she halted the sighs of relief,  
"your memory processing, the association areas as well as your respiratory centers show functional anomalies. I'm uncertain if and to what degree the hearing is impacted as well, but I can tell from the bloodtest, that this was a very extensive procedure."  
She pulled up a medical enzyclopedia and entered a slew of information. Lupin and Jigen exchanged glances; so far for not leaving a paper trail.  
"Of course I can only work with the residual, but the wide range of impairments indicate at least three to four different drugs. That is not all." She closed the page and looked Lupin in the eye.  
"At least one of these drugs are commonly used to treat dissociative amnesia. My assumption is that in addition to the medication, you have also been..conditioned." Jigen grit his teeth.  
"You mean brainwashed." Doctor Qô'los grimaced.  
"I wouldn't go that far. But it is a possibility. I would recommend you to see a therapist about how to procede from here on."

Lupin stood on the balcony of their hotel room and gazed over Vancouver Bay. Jigen joined him, lighting a cigarette.  
"So, according to the wise guys online, this whole thing was triggered by some trauma during those twenty-eight hours, huh? Any idea what happened?"  
"No."  
Jigen gave him a sideways glance.  
"Cut the bullcrap; I know y' too well to fall for it. You do remember something."  
Lupin's eyes darkened.

_A strong hand kept him underwater.  
Above him a face, distorted, strange, familar, unknown. He could fell the fine sheet of ice at he surface breaking, cutting into his skin, his fingers and toes going numb. He fought for air, but breathed water in instead, and began to panic.  
Suddenly he was pulled up, a rough towel wrapped around him and his body rubbed down hastily. He felt himself being hefted from the tub?pool? and carried to a different room, where he was dumped unceremoniously on a bed. Before he could do more than spit out the water in his lungs, a pinprick pain in his shoulder gave him pause.  
He was forcibly pushed down on the bed, leather straps tying his arms and legs to the frame. An oxygen mask was placed over his mouth, but instead of fresh air a sweetly, powdery fog filled his nostrils.  
His body went lax in a matter of seconds, he felt drunk, dizzy and confused.  
Somebody spoke to him, and then he fainted.  
He came to when one finger was pushed slowly into his rectum, and his eyes widened. He wanted to scream, but found his mouth occupied by a gagball. The finger inside him moved, joined by a second and third and then replaced by..replaced by..._

Lupin felt sick to the stomach. At this point, his brain always blanked out, but it took no genius to figure out the rest.  
As for the remaining memories, they were like a cards having been thrown about the inside of his brain. Some stuck, some fell off. None of the images were pleasent.  
Except..there was one.  
Not a visual, a sensation, a reassurance, a single dot of warmth hidden away admidst the onslaught of cold and abuse.  
A lifeline.  
Some.. _thing_? in there wanted him to stay alive, no matter what.  
As if he ever had any incentive not to.

Sleek, silverbronze and small enough to be hidden in a broche, the key to the universe was safely pinned to Lupin's breast pocket in the shape of Vancouver's flag.  
The master thief didn't feel much better, but the code breaker attatched to his jacket, as he sashayed through Ambleside, put his mind somewhat at ease.  
The wind shifted, bringing in the smells of the harbor and bay and the sun setting on-  
_-the ocean, glittering gold and warm. He slows his pace, still moving fast, when he hears something behind him. Not a rustle or a whisper or a whistle, but everything and none of it combined. It breezes past him, whatever it is, and he looks back over his shoulder.  
He can't really make out anything out of the ordinary, but then again, the sunset reflects from a thousand small squares and there the sound is agan and this time he sees/not sees it and it's heading for him and he turns and he can feel it piercing the skin of his neck, entering the bloodstream.  
He winces, trips, reaches for his gun and rolls into a kneeling position, Walther 38 at the ready. Nothing. No one. But the sun's light dims, he has trouble seeing straight, staying crouched, holding the gun. He supports himself on his left, his right hand still swinging back and forth, checking for potential attackers, but there is nothing.  
Just the smell from the ocean and the harbor and the sun's reflected glare..._  
There was no one there.  
Gun still on the ready, he did a three-hundred-sixty, panic rising in his chest, sweat beads exploding on his forehead.  
He was standing on a fucking _roof_ , overlooking False Creek and -how had he even gotten here? How long had he been traipsing about the city without even realizing that the sun had long set and the stars were out and the nightlife was dying and, and...  
He was cold.  
Not just freezing, but a chill he felt not going to, but _coming_ from his bones.  
All strength left him, he sagged to his knees, gasping, gagging, choking, fighting for air and trying to will down the nausea and anxiety closing around his chest.  
Bile rose from his throat, he opened his mouth, but merely managed a few dry heaves. Why was there so little air? He couldn't breathe, but the air was so _much_ and yet he couldn't breathe in any of it.  
"There you are! I've-"  
The bullet missed Jigen's eye by a few milimeters, skidding across his high cheekbone and leaving a trail of crimson and gunpowder in its wake.  
"Holy fuck!" Jigen stood there, shocked, gaping at a kneeling, trembling, sweating, panting Lupin.  
A Lupin who was clearly past his breaking point, because the dark eyes he knew so well darted about aimlessly, his hand holding the Walther trembling with a fevor.  
Jigen held both hands up in surrender.  
His voice was low, calming, his movements and tone soothing.  
"Boss! Lupin! It's me, Jigen. Remember? Fastest draw in the world? Chainsmoking bastard, who's always got your back? Guy most likely to take a bullet for y' and charge ya double for it?"  
Pinpoint pupils zeroed in on him, face grey and slack and greenish, short hair clinging to a sweat-soaked forehead and temples. Lupin's breath came in rapid, shuddering gasps, his hands, still holding his gun, in his lap.  
"Jigen. Jigen. Huh. Heh." A wobbly smile, teetering on a grimace. Lupin's teeth began to chatter.  
"Oh. Oh God. Jigen, I..I'm sorry, I'm so..so sorry...."  
Lupin crumpled into a heap, then fell over sideways in a fetal position, streams of tears cascading over his cheeks, as he keened, wailed, wept.  
And as the rain began to fall, Jigen held him there in his arms, on a lonely roof in the center of an uncaring city.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
From here onwards, it will become more graphic. Please skip if you feel uneasy.

*Qô'los: A supernatural being/primal god from the Kwakiutl tribe's tales of creation. The Kwakiutl are among the people indigenious to British Columbia.  
More info:https://www.sacred-texts.com/nam/nw/kt/index.htm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Memory lapse: this actually happened to me. Being epileptic, it took me years to find the right combination of meds to ensure that I don't have any episodes. Depending on how long it lasts, this can be very terrifying. A friend of mine who's also an epileptic, was once on the way home, a walk of maybe twenty minutes, and found themselves two hours later downtown. Even if you know it might happen, it's still unsettling every single time.


	8. Yamoussoukrou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glancing through Lupin lll's animated history, I realized the gang rarely made it into Africa. And even rarer into the Sub-Sahel zone. So I figured I'd rectify that.

_Yamoussoukrou_

It was hot, it was humid, boxed in yet expansive, weirdly underpopulated though constantly busy and just wonderful in its exotic beauty.  
He was doing much better, decided Jigen, as he watched his partner leap off the diving board into the hotel's pool.  
What a stay in an obscure capitol without the pressure of an overzealous Zenigata on their trail and some overconvoluted scheme on their brains could do for one's self.  
Jigen watched Lupin plow through the clear water; he had put on some weight and even managed to build up somewhat of a tan. Considering his skin had been the shade of fufu° when they had arrived eight days earlier, that wasn't really a feat.  
In all honesty, them being here had everything to do with Jigen calling the airport after hauling a semi-concious, whimpering wrec of a master thief into the nearest hospital and demanding the first flight into the most off-the beaten-path city on the list.  
Being this far out of his comfort zone would force Lupin to heal and readjust before getting into trouble. Plus, the chance of running into any old acquaintances -or enemies- was next to none, here.  
Still, to be on the safe side, Jigen had called Goemon as back-up, and the poor samurai had been somewhat overwhelmed with the cultural shock. The Côte d'Ivoire is not really the place to be for a ronin.  
Goemon had insisted on staying in the woods near the hotel and live 'off of the soil and rivers'. At first he had felt utterly exposed with there being so few forests close by, but Lupin had smiled that infectious grin of his and stated,  
"Anyone can hide in the woods. It takes true skill to hide in the open. Just ask the lions!"  
That had been twelve hours ago.

"Seriously, if your fingers were any stickier, you'd clog up your dickhole each time y' took a piss!" growled Jigen under his breath.  
Lupin had sworn, _sworn_ , he wouldn't steal anything from the Basilique de Notre Dame de La Paix. Sadly, this didn't include the tourists who visited the gorgeous cathedral. Oh well, at least he restrcited himself to the wealthy and affluent looking. Unless..unless..  
"Why're we here?" he asked. Lupin gave him a questioning smile.  
"Why, to take in the breathtaking architectural work-" Jigen snapped,  
"No, no, why are we here, right _now_ , at _this_ very minute on _this_ very day? Why'd you insist-"  
He broke off. Several moments passed between them, staring at each other, Jigen incredulous, Lupin seemingly oblivious. Eventually, Jigen sighed and pulled the brim of his hat lower.  
"Who is it?" Lupin tilted his head.  
"Pardon?" Ok, now he was just pushing it.  
"Lupin, I know there's no huge artworks or jewelry or whatever t' steal here. Meaning, it's someone who's got something on 'em y' want. So, who is it?"  
Lupin held his gaze, them smirked.  
"He. Shoulda known I can't keep things from you." Jigen balled his fists.  
"I can't- who, Lupin? Fortune five-hundred? Mediastar? Footballplayer?" Lupin began swaying his arms up and down, humming a quirky little tune. Jigen's left eye twitched.  
"Rich heiress? Diplomat?" Lupin batted his eyelashes. Jigen just wanted to strangle him.  
"I'm not letting y' pull a job ya didn't bother telling me about in broad daylight! You're not well enough, yet!" he growled.  
"Oh, ye of little faith, dear" cooed Lupin, twirling about.  
"And stop acting like a lunatic; this is a church, not a dancefloor, you moron!"  
Lupin wagged his finger.  
"Ah-ah-ah, language, my dear Jigen. Besides, it's a cathedral." Gritting his teeth, the gunslinger snarked,  
"And you'll be making an untimely aqcuaintance with its graveyard, if ya keep this up. Befitting, since you're catholic!" Lupin paused in his imitation of a dying albatros.  
"Actually, I'm agnostic- but thank you for being this concerned about my everlasting soul", he tweeted, making kissy faces at Jigen. Who took a swipe at him, missing by a league, snarling,  
"You ungrateful bastard! And after all the trouble I've had getting us here! I shoulda thrown y' in a _kennel_ and left ya to rot!" He took a deep breath to voice his frustration some more- and then his anger poured off him in a whoosh.  
Lupin's face had lost all colour. His eyes almost popped out of their sockets, his lips trembled. Pearls of sweat covered his brow, his features cold and gray as marble.  
His mouth dropped open, but at first, nothing but chocked gasps escaped, before,  
"No, no, please, no I- I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please-!" Lupin's voice was terrible; pitched, but not unnaturally so, grating over his vocal cords and across his tongue, interlaced with sheer utter terror and dread.  
He slumped to his knees and grabbed Jigen's sleeve, begging,  
"Please, please not the kennel! I promise, I'll be-behave, just please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-!" To Jigen's utter mortification, Lupin began to kiss his hand, tears lingering at the edge of the thief's eyes. Rougher than intended, he hoisted the groveling Lupin up to his feet, even as people began to take notice.  
"It's ok," he stammered in what broken French he could muster,  
"it's-it'-s part of the therapy. Grieving, y' know? Didn't tell his- err- wife how he felt and now it's too late-ehrmm, why don't we leave, err- Lu-louis, huh? Maybe the _pêre_ can lend ya his ear."  
Practically dragging the sobbing Lupin along, Jigen post-haste vacated the basilique.

"Ok, now spill."  
Sitting on the Rue de Maquis, they looked out at the water and the fields beyond. Jigen offered Lupin some alloco. The thief took a few pieces and popped them into his mouth, chewing without tasting. Jigen placed the banana leaf between them and lit a cigarette. Blowing out a thick cloud, he waited.  
One cannot be a hitman without patience.  
And out of the both of them, he had always been the more patient one.  
This time, however, Lupin had him wait.  
And worried.  
It was not like the thief to sit there, practically immobile, save for an occasional blind grab at another piece of deep-fried plantaine without tapping his feet, twirling his fingers or fidgeting somehow else.  
Jigen could wait.  
Anything to make his partner and friend, his brother in arms feel comfortable, save enough to open up.  
Drag by drag, cigarette after cigarette, gaze on the city and fields sprawled around them, he waited.  
"Am I losing it?"  
It was so soft, Jigen almost missed it. He sniffled, put out his cigarette, took a piece of alloco. He chewed, thoughtfully, swallowed and said,  
"Yeah." Another piece, this one dabbed with spice.  
"So, what we gonna do about it?" He chewed, swallowed.  
"Back to where it all started?" He could actually feel the trepidation come off of Lupin in waves. The thief's voice sounded distant and strangled, when he replied,  
"I'll die, if I go back to Portugal."  
"That much is certain."  
Both men looked up to where Goemon stood, basket on one arm, a bundle of gutted fish dangling from a makeshift rod over his shoulder.  
"You failed to show up at our appointed place. So I came looking for you." His eyes wandered across the planes and houses.  
"So if not Lisbon, then where?" Lupin's jaw twitched, dark eyes stormy and clouded as the horizon.  
"Japan. My first big fuck-up."

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°  
How that's a good idea, is anbody's guess. In case you've guessed: it's not.

°fufu, also foufou, foofoo: Central/West African staple food made from boiled and pounded yam/cassava flour blends to create a fluffy, slightly sticky dough. It is served with any variety of soups and protein-based dishes.


	9. Nagano again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter so far, and let's put up trigger warnings. Mentionings of rape, disssociation, physical abuse and degradation. Those will be even more prominent in the final chapter.

_Nagano again_

"Women. Female parts. Fujiko. Diamonds. Kennel. Harbor. Harbor in combination with sunset. Give back. Making it worse. Syringes. Cold. Ice. Ice water. Perfume. I-uhm-erectile..dysfunction. Caused by perfume or proximity to women. Or Fujiko. Leather, leather straps. Errhhmm, Zenigata. No, not really. More like, as a result of my reaction to the other stuff. Zenigata is just an added stress factor. Lesse, ehm -o-oxygen mask."  
Jigen caught the slight stumble, but didn't comment.  


For the past six days since they had left the Black Continent, they had been trying to figure out to what Lupin reacted the most vehemently.  
So far, it looked promising, but also very unsettling. The triggers were so commonplace and random, it was practically impossible to avoid them.  
Whoever had reprogrammed Lupin, had made damned sure to cover all the bases.  


For once, they had decided on an actually nice place for their stay; a small holiday resort on the outskirts of the former Winter Olympic Games host city.  
When asked why, Lupin had smirked, flashed his infamous grin and held up the memory plaque.  
"Simple. To return this to where it belongs."  
Upon Jigen's disbelieving sputter, Lupin had explained,  
"Everyone can steal something. But breaking back into a place and returning the goods takes _real_ savoir faire, especially if the security's been upgraded since the previous heist."  
His dark grey eyes flashed.  
"Bringing the plaque back is just to rub it into tot-san's face, that I've bested him yet again."  
He gazed down at the shimmering bronze square.  
"Plus, I really believe it should be returned to the people it belongs to. All these folks who worked so hard to make the games a success." He crossed his arms behind his head.  
"Or something among those lines", he added flippantly.  
Goemon nodded.  
"Your goal is noble, even if your intentions are not. Fine. I will help you reinstall my people's honour."  
"We're not reinstalling anything, save for Lupin's chipboard", snarled Jigen.  
"Right now you're a ticking time bomb, y' do realize that, ne?" Lupin pouted.  
"I told you, I'm fine. A few more therapy sessions and-"  
"Bullcrap!" roared the gunslinger, slamming his fist on the coffee table. He pushed up his hat to glare at the thief.  
"Stuff like what you've been through takes _months_ , if not years to undo. Do you think I can't see that you're still not fessing up to things? That you're keeping the worst stuff bottled up?"  
He threw himself back on the sofa, arms crossed.  
"Until you don't let us in on what else happened, I ain't tagging along. "  
For a solid minute, Lupin gazed at his partner, then asked,  
"Why are you like this, Jigen? You're usually not-"  
"Because you pointed your fucking _gun_ at me, Lupin!" roared Jigen, rising from his seat.  
"You pointed your gun at me twice and damn near shot me! You had a fucking _meltdown_ in a fucking _church_ in broad daylight, because of a single _word_ I said! How can I- how can we trust ya to not just walk or freak out on us and shoot everything that moves? Forget 'bout screwing up the job, you're playing with our lives, here!"  
He straightened up to his full height, looked Lupin into the eyes.  
"What was it? What happened that was so bad, it pushed you to this point?"  
Lupin mimicked his pose, grey eyes dancing, darkening, but he held his friend's gaze.  
"The worst."  
In the ensuing silence, the two quietly uttered words hung like a tangible entity, a blanket made of pure miasma.  
Jigen plopped down on the sofa, driving both hands over his face.  
"Goddamnit." Lupin slumped, suddenly seeming old and tired beyond his years. Jigen stared into the full ashtray, eyes jumping from one crushed cigarette butt to the other.  
"Why didn't you say something?"  
Lupin failed to answer.  
It was Goemon who broke the silence.  
"Do no recriminate yourself over such a traumatic event. Whoever took- advantage of you, clearly did so not out of impulse, but as part of their diabolical plan to undo your inner balance and abduce your soul from your body. It is utterly despicable and dishonourable. Whoever this fiend is, aimed for nothing less than your complete destruction."  
Lupin glanced over his shoulder at the samurai.  
"Which makes this job that more important. I gotta prove to myself, that I can still do this, or else Lupin lll will cease to exist. And no way I'm gonna let that happen."  
His eyes narrowed.  
"No way I'm gonna let that bastard win."  
And just like that, the entire atmosphere shifted. Both Jigen and Goemon could sense the lingering doubt, the pain, humiliation and uncertainty, but through it all, Lupin's determination shone bright and strong as ever.  
Finally, Jigen conceded.  
"Fine. I'm in. But we need to put in some safety measures." His face turned to the plaque Lupin had dropped on the table during their arguement.  
"I still don't get it. Why go through all that trouble for this?" Lupin winked.  
"Because it feels like the right thing to do."  


The calling card must have thrown Zenigata for a loop, because the poor inspector showed up almost ten minutes late for the heist. Then again, it had been on such short notice, even Lupin and Jigen had scrambled to get everything in place.  
Obviously, the museum had learned from its previous mistake, because the new security system was top-notch.  
Which was kind of ironic, since the memorial plate on display was a replica. Still, the thrill of switching it with the original made Lupin giddy with excitement.  
This time, there would be no Fujiko around. He had told the thieving beauty of his plans and the femme fatale had been stunned silent by his plan. Right before telling him that he had lost his marbles and she would stay away from him, until he had regained at least a semblance of normalcy.  
With her out of the way and a very loose inkling of what triggers to look out for, the gang set off for their weird non-heist.  


'Dumb as fuck', thought Lupin, as he made his way across the museum's rooftop.  
Nagano in January was worse than Vancouver in November. He knew cold and ice were triggers for him, so why had he insisted to come here now, of all times? He could have gone to Argentina or Australia or Thailand, but instead, he had pushed to come to a winter sport resort.  
It could have waited until spring, preferably summer, but at the same time, Lupin knew he had to overcome his fears sooner than later.  
There was only so much their crude therapy could achieve, and he needed to get back in the game, and be it only to get his hand on quick cash.  
His catsuit underneath his usual attire kept him warm, but he could still feel the cold cutting into his exposed face.  
Just a few more steps, then the lightshow and sensors, a swift sleight of hands...  
Moments later, the infrared cage switched off, triggering the silent alarm. Lupin shimmied a wedge between the fake plaque and the wall and pried it off with a pop. Swiftly he pressed the original into its given place and rushed for the exit, the replica safely tucked under his arm.  
He heard shots being fired and knew he had to take a deroute, if he wanted to escape-  
"There he is! Lupin, you're under arrest!" Doing a one-eighty and practically skidding across the floor, Lupin cursed under his breath.  
Where had Zenigata come from, all of a sudden? Last he had checked in with Jigen, the inspector had been barking orders on the parking lot. How on earth had he gotten in here so fast?  
"Matte, Lupin!" bellowed the inspector and Lupin froze. Tripping over his own feet, he crashed to the floor. Scrambling, he lost precious seconds, and suddenly Zenigata was almost on top of him. He rolled out of reach and with a desperate leap, vaulted over the railing.  
His cufflink grapples barely caught the opposite trellis and he swung in a wide arch across the staircase, almost crashing into the opposite wall.  
"Boss! Get outta there! The cavalry just showed up and they're not happy!"  
Lupin gave a grunt as he hoisted himself over a small wall.  
"Matte, Lupin!" he heard Zenigata scream and almost doubled over. Of all the triggers to use, such an everyday word. Ignoring his mind screaming at him, he raced down the stairs, always taking three at once, when his earpiece came alive again.  
"Lupin, get outta there! I'm gonna haveta use the Big One on the goons! Those are definetly not Zenigata's people!"  
Lupin felt cold sweat cover his entire body. If the military showed up, Jigen had no other choice than to use the grenade launcher. Which meant...  
He was at the worst possible spot. He needed to either duck into the opposite wing, from where he could hear the heavy sound of boots approaching, or try to escape through the closest window.  
Which were all barred.  
Swearing, he slid into an alcove and took off the heels of his shoes. Flint and some gelignite appeared. It wasn't much, but sufficient for the task. Checking out his surroundings, he sprinted over to the window he could barely make out on the other side of the hall.  
And the troup led by Zenigata, who ordered them to split up and comb the area.  
Fuck.  
Lupin bit his lip, then decided to risk it. Waiting for the first group to pass him by, he snuck towards where Zenigata stood, then threw a smoke grenade and rushed him. Caught off-guard, the inspector coughed and tried to shout for assistance, but by then Lupin had already set and lit his charges and was tackling the ICPO agent to the ground.  
It was too much plastic explosive; instead of blowing the window out of its frame, the explosion tore down a large potion of the wall, raining debris down on both Lupin and Zenigata. Before Zenigata could react, Lupin was up and out the makeshift door.  
The handcuffs caught his ankle, but he snapped them open on reflex and-  
_"Not to defy me!"_  
crashed into the cruiser that was trying to block his path. His momentum carried him over the hood, several of his shirt button bombs came off and he took a flying leap away from the doomed car, counting down from five, four-  
"Lupin! Come back here!"  
_"-this leather belt will convince you to behave-"_  
Boom.  


_Everything is hazy. His ears are ringing, bleeding, he's sure. All around him is_  
chaos, fire, screaming, sirens. He faintly heard Zenigata shouting orders, the crackling of crumbling stones and crunching of heavy boots on broken glass.  
_He grits his teeth, as he attempts to rise._  
Jigen's grenade must have impacted the same time his small bombs took out the police cruiser. Lupin squinted at the museum, shivering as the wind picked up.  
The entire wall the window was sat in, was gone. The cruiser was lying on its side, he could see shadows moving, someone was being pulled away.  
_"-been bad, you need to be punished!" He grips his right forearm, but it's_  
phantom pain, the memory of a needle sliding under his skin and injecting- something.  
Lupin's feet were unsteady, but he managed to scurry away and deeper into the narrow streets. He looked up and around, searching for street signs, any indication on which side of the museum he was.  
The kissaten he ran into Zenigata last time stood there, closed, and he scowled. At least now he knew where he was. Using the wall for both shielding and support, Lupin circled back near the museum. Above him, clouds began to roll across the sky, as the wind gained force.  
Every so often he had to evade police or troupers searching the area, and the fact that  
_"You are a very naughty pet"_  
his skin was beginning to crawl for no reason, didn't make things better.  
Only a few more turns, and then he would be at the meeting point. He would be able to signal Jigen or Goemon to get the hell out of here, and...  
The second detonation almost rocked him off his feet. Why would Jigen launch another missile, if he knew that Lupin was already in the clear? Unless those weren't Jigen's grenades, but the troups'.  
Adrenaline pumped through his body as he began to run. Never mind the cover, he needed to make sure that his friends were ok. He was almost back at the museum, but the scene had changed drastically.  
Part of the building opposite the museum had collapsed, the cruiser from before halfways buried underneath the rubble. Zenigata was nowhere in sight, his voice dampened by the continuously strengthening wind. Goemon was cutting his way through the enemies, heading for a speck of blue peeking up from behind what used to be the side entrance Lupin had used to get onto the museum.  
Jigen's magnum bellowed, but he couldn't make out from where. The wind was blowing directly into his face, throwing pebbles and ash and dirt at him. He took one step forward and fell  
_-into a pool of icy darkness that breathed death-_  
and almost cracked his forehead open on the rim of a manhole. He was no longer sweating now, but drenched in icy sweat, one leg dangling helplessly in the air, while the other foot had managed to hook itself onto the ledge. Lupin fought to find a hold to heave himself out of the manhole, but his foot couldn't find the ladder in the dark. Usually he would have chuckled at such a small hindrance, but the past months and shock from the blast had cost him.  
And then he heard the whistles.  
One short, one long, a pause, and then a high-pitched, prolongued trill.  
Man down, clear out immediately.  
Obviously Jigen had gotten the brunt from the second blast, since he had seen Goemon slicing away at the shattered boulders on the other side of the parking lot.  
Lupin struggled and heaved himself out of the sewer, when he heard a very familiar sound.  
Their little yellow Fiat came swerving around the corner, breezing past where Lupin was lying on the floor, eclipsed by a pile of rubble.  
A smile came to Lupin's face, just to be replaced by a scowl.  
If neither Jigen nor Goemon were hurt, and he was neither, then why the signal?  
He rose to his feet, unsteady, watching the Fiat swerve to a halt, Jigen jumping out and rushing over to help Goemon dig through the debris.  
An arm appeared, wrapped in blue, a shock of black hair, a pale, bruised face, blue jacket and...  
Lupin gripped tightly onto the wall in front of him.  
Was he having an out-of-body experience? If he was there, how could he be here? Or was it much simpler? Was he dead? Or-  
_"..behave and be a good little..."_  
His head felt as if it was about to explode. Of course, a double; someone else posing as him and in the turmoil and confusion, neither Jigen nor Goemon would guess that this wasn't their fallen comrade, but a cop in disguise.  
_"..follow my orders.."_  
He clutched his head, collapsing to his knees. His throat was constricting, and he had to focus solely to _breath_.  
"Gotta move, now!" Jigen's shout was barely a whisper, and Lupin looked up.  
He could see Goemon carrying Lupin, himself, away to their waiting car.  
No, wait, but if he as here, then why- how had the fake Lupin known where to..no. It didn't make sense. Unless it was a trap.  
No, not a trap, a maze with mirrored walls and double floors and electric fences and, and...  
He had been played.  
"No, wait!" he rasped, as he limped from behind the debris and reached out a hand, but the wind tore the words from his lips.  
Jigen threw himself behind the wheel, Goemon swiftly found his place on the backseat with his unconcious doppelgänger.  
Lupin drew a deep breath and screamed,  
"Yamero! Matte!" but the roaring of the motor and the voice of the wind all but swallowed his cry. Again, he tried to yell, but this time his windpipe clogged up and he bent over, coughing, gasping for air.  
Blinking away tears, Lupin looked up and knew it was too late.  
It was over.  
He watched Jigen and Goemon drive away with the false Lupin, wind whipping around his slender form.  
Behind him, he heard steps, a familiar gait.  
And suddenly, everything clicked into place.  
All those memories, the abuse, torture, rape, selective mind wipe, triggers, it all had been camouflage to hide the real goal of the conditioning:  
to lure him back here, to do exactly what he had done and thus deliver himself into the hands of his enemy.  
Filled with utter dread, he turned to face the approaching form.  
Zenigata walked up to him, a predatory smile on his lips.  
"You will come with me, because I told you so. Because I trained you to. I made you my pet, and as such, you have to obey your master."  
Lupin hiccupped, a broken squeak torn from his throat, as Zenigata came to a stand in front of him and placed one large, brawny hand on his head.  
"There's a good pet," the inspector grumbled,  
"it is time to see how well you have learned."  
Lupin merely cried tearlessly.  
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One more to go, my dears, and brace yourselves.  
  



	10. Zenigata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since the cat's out of the bag, here we have the final chapter of this twisted, dark little tale of mine. Final warning for explicit non-con sex and harsh OOCness.  
> Thanks to all of you who stuck with me through this rather uncomfortable tale, and I hope to see you soon in one of my other fics.

_Zenigata_

He recognized the place.  
Of course he did.  
How else could Zenigata ensure he remained quiet, complacent, behaved?  
Every step deeper into the remodeled factory slid yet another memory into place, like files into a cabinet.  
Here the laboratory, where he had been strapped down, injected, diods attatched to his head as syringe after syringe of drugs had been pumped into him.  
Four flights down, the 'kennel'; a holding cell with a blanket, a drain and an iron ring embedded into the wall. The leash was still attatched to it.  
If what was left of his memory served him right, a water hose was hanging just behind the door.  
Another room, unlit, but he knew there was a seat with headphones and blindfolds and even more syringes.  
And a leather belt.

Lupin couldn't remember much after Zenigata had coaxed him into his car; something about retrieving stolen goods, the inspector taking a prolonged vacation or sick leave, darkness, airports, cars...it all blended together.  
Nothing mattered.  
Because now, he was here, wherever 'here' in Lisbon it was, sitting in a bathtub and driving a sponge over his body.  
He recalled the tub from his nightmares, of course, but now it was filled with hot, soapy water, soft bubbles and sweet-smelling steam.  
"Be thourough," Zenigata had demanded, as he had placed him in the almost scalding water,  
"you know I am." Lupin was painfully aware of that.  
As he had been led through the complex, he had been mildly surprised at how compact the whole building was. In his mind, he had been dragged through endless halls of emptyness, abysses yawning up at him every step he took, but now...  
It didn't make the place any less hazardous.  
As he also found out in a painful manner.  
Everything was tuned to Zenigata's biometrics, and when he tried to deactivate something by imitating the inspector's voice, he was swiftly reminded of the security measures.  
Via the chip embedded in his neck.  
In its own way, it was more humiliating than any collar could be. Everyday people wear collars, but animals are being chipped without consent.  
He had been dehumanized, truly reduced to a pet.  
So, he did as told, cleansed himself as good as possible, watching the water run down the drain, as he stood and rinsed off any residual soap and dirt.  
On a bench, a towel was waiting along with a pair of slippers. Lupin dried himself off dutifully, then put on the house shoes. Out of the corner of the eye he glanced something like a morning gown, but when he went to retrieve it, he realized it was only a grossly oversized beach towel. Nevermind.  
He threw it over his head and wrapped it around his form before walking towards the only door. It opened for him and he stepped through. An empty hallway, but there were lights in the shape of cat footprints leading the way.  
Big cat prints, green, with claws.  
He swallowed.  
Why did it remind him of the signs in zoos leading to the lions' den?  
He followed the prints into a salon, a dining room of sorts. On the table stood a bowl of hot soup, some bread rolls and fruit.  
Only now did he realize how hungry he was, and with ravenous appetite he attacked the meal and ate everything in sight.  
Cleaned, sated, he leaned back in his chair, decided to think of a plan on how to override Zenigata's security system, but just as he was about to figure out how to outsmart the cameras, he drifted off to sleep.

When he came to, he lay on a futon, curled up under a blanket. Something had woken him, but what? He yawned and sat up, inspecting his surroundings.  
It was a large room, the biggest one he had seen so far, and rather..cozy. Hardwood floor with carpets, shoji and paravents hid the ugly walls from sight and a big, comfy bed.  
A very familiar bed.  
Lupin gulped, incapable of tearing his eyes from the sight.  
He remembered.  
Remembered how Zenigata had touched him, taught him, marked, claimed and taken him, again and again, not satisfied until Lupin had cum, orgasmed, died his own little death underneath the inspector's bulky form.  
How he had put him back together, praised him, teased him, made his body tingle and long for him, Zenigata.  
Zenigata, who now stood in the entrance, dark brown eyes gazing down at him, taking in his appearance.  
Zenigata, who wore a fresh new suit, no hat or coat, and zori.  
Zenigata, who smelled like cigarettes and aftershave and a rich, deep body wash reminiscent of musk and mountains.  
Zenigata, who sported a large bulge in his pants and a smile that made Lupin freeze and flush simultaneously.  
Seeing his reaction, Zenigata's smile broadened.  
His voice was gruff, thick with hunger.  
"Finally, after all these years, you are mine."  
Lupin whimpered, but didn't dare reply. His body wanted, yearned for Zenigata's touch, the rough hands, long fingers, strong arms and broad chest.  
"Such a good pet."  
He could feel his member hardening, but tried to fight the urge to rub his thighs together.  
Zenigata stood over him, looming, a dark, superiour smirk on his features.  
"I must admit, this little- reprogramming of yours was far more successful than I could have ever dreamt. Now come here and please your master."  
Unwillingly, Lupin rose his hand and pulled down the zipper in front of him. In the large chamber, the sound was deafeningly loud, and he gulped.  
He knew what the inspector felt like, smelt like, tasted like, even before he removed the thick member from its confines.  
"There's a good pet," a large, brawny hand caressed his hair,  
"now remember, don't bite."  
Lupin let his tongue circle the tip, his hands nimbly stroking the hardening cock to full arousal. Wrapping his lips around the massive shaft, letting it slide in as far as he could take it.  
One large hand pressed against the back of his head, gently pushing him forward. Lupin fought his gag reflex, trying to force more of Zenigata's dick down his throat, but failed. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes, but he couldn't free himself; the conditoning and, most of all, Zenigata's hand was too strong.  
Eventually, the inspector released him and Lupin gasped and coughed.  
"You're getting better at this," praised Zenigata, and Lupin gave a nod of gratitude.  
"Now get on that bed."  
Fresh tears sprang to his eyes, when a flood of memories came rushing back to him.  
Zenigata on top of him, inside of him, rutting, battering away, over and over again, his seed filling Lupin, making him feel small and dirty and cheap and-  
"You're mine and only mine. And I won't anybody else touch you like that. Ever."  
Lupin looked up in fear, and his breath caught.  
The tone had been possessive and harsh, but the deep brown, long-lashed eyes were not.  
Possessive yes, but also..well-meaning. Warm. Caring.  
And aflame with desire.  
Deep, all-consuming desire. It rushed over Lupin like a firestorm, making him whimper again. He tried to fight it, but his body rose and shuffled over to the bed, where he lay down on his back, legs apart, knees bent and his fingers touching his opening.  
He swallowed thickly. Zenigata drank in the sight before him, then smiled.  
"Such a good, well-behaved pet", he rumbled and Lupin gave a soft keen. He just wanted this to be over with, so he could lock himself in the bathroom, throw up and cry himself to sleep on the cold tiles.  
Instead, he raised his hands above his head, wrists crossed, and Zenigata gave a pleased growl. Driving one large, brawny hand up the entire length of Lupin's body, he let his eyes wander appreciatively over the thief's lithe form before locking eyes with him and pressing a soft kiss against this one's lips.  
Lupin whimpered anew, knowing that this was a mere distraction from the finger which now probed against his entrance, pressed inside, wound its way deeper.  
His mouth opened in a semi-gasp and Zenigata was quick to push his tongue inside.  
A lustfilled groan came from the older man; Lupin could feel him shrugging out of his jacket and shirt, eventually releasing Lupin's orifices.  
His member lay in a confused, twitching coma on his belly, undecided wether it should stiffen or soften. Lupin kept his eyes on Zenigata, as he had been taught, watching as the inspector made a show of unbuckling his pants and pushing them down his hips. It was now that it occured to him that Zenigata was not wearing any underwear.  
How could he have missed that the inspector was going commando? But then...  
He trembled.  
Zengata had known that this would happen. He had known that Lupin would be unable to resist his programming, his want. Like a conjuring trick, a small bottle of lube appeared in the inspector's large hand, and he poured a generous amount in his palm. Zenigata stroked his member, leaving a glistening wet coat on the engorged cock, and Lupin blushed, opening his legs wider. Zenigata settled between them, giving Lupin a soft kiss and mumbling gently,  
"Such a good little pet." Then he pushed in, slowly, lazily, unerringly, and Lupin knew that no matter how far he ran, he would forever be caught in this cage that was Zenigata's lust.

_owari_

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And thus, it ends. Apologies to all who expected a happy ending, but I really wanted to write a cunning, sinister, deranged Zenigata. Why? Because everybody has a dark side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was vaguely inspired by a scene in Part1 of the series, where Lupin and Jigen call Zenigata downright evil, and Lupin adds, that they probably are partially to blame for Zenigata's charachter change.  
> Working from there, it's easy to see the depth of Zenigata's obsession with Lupin, his extreme possessiveness and the lenghts he goes to to keep _his_ Lupin safe and sound, until he can arrest him. Next to Jigen, he knows Lupin best, and thus, his thought patterns.  
> Many people have a slight misconception regarding brainwashing/conditioning. To put it into extremes, you cannot make someone do something that is strictly against their most basic nature. Zenigata couldn't stop Lupin from stealing, but made him associate theft with pain/punishment, as a means to invoke panic attacks.  
> Using Fujiko as a prop for all women who ever mocked, rejected or betrayed him, removed one of his safety blankets, making him turn to his own sex for comfort. I'm picturing Lupin as being bisexual, though it's never really hinted at in the series. Finally, the pet/rape thing is really more of a tool to establish dominance.


End file.
